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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974637">Crashing Down (For All of Us)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321'>MissCrazyWriter321</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grimm (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Found Family, Gen, Hugs all around, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Post-Canon, Team as Family, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:35:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nick takes a shot meant for Sean Renard, no one knows how to handle it. Least of all Renard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adalind Schade &amp; Juliette Silverton, Nick Burkhardt &amp; Diana Schade-Renard, Nick Burkhardt &amp; Hank Griffin, Nick Burkhardt &amp; Juliette Silverton, Nick Burkhardt &amp; Sean Renard, Nick Burkhardt &amp; Theresa Rubel, Nick Burkhardt/Adalind Schade, Rosalee Calvert &amp; Theresa Rubel, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe, Sean Renard/Juliette Silverton, Theresa Rubel &amp; Josh Porter, Theresa Rubel &amp; Juliette Silverton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Crashing Down (For All of Us)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Is this just 12k of self-indulgent found family, angst, and hugs wrapped up in a vaguely plot-centric bow? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Not for a second. </p>
<p>This is also a contribution to Friends and Family August on Tumblr, although there are obviously a few romantic storylines scattered inside. The focus is on Nick Burkhardt's messy but lovely family, though, so I really hope everyone enjoys!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Not that he would ever admit it, but Sean Renard hated press conferences. They were loud, for one, and the reporters always talked over each other, making it nearly impossible to catch a single question. He didn’t mind talking in front of people, but taking questions from a swarm of people who just want their next byline and could care less about the victims of the case? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He always joked-privately, of course-that he’d rather be shot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nonetheless, after a particularly grueling case, he found himself out in front of the station, staring down more than two dozen cameras and mics. Nick, Hank, and Wu-all instrumental in closing the case-stood off to his side, barely masking their discomfort. The story he was telling the media was not altogether a lie, but it left out some pretty significant details (a necessity of the job, he supposed, but spinning stories to leave out Wesen was exhausting). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The speech went pretty well, in his humble opinion: He covered everything quickly and concisely, and barely even had to lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the questions started. “Captain Renard, what can you say regarding Miller’s motives?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was a Blutbad who moved in next door to a Bauerschwein. They have a feud going back centuries, both blaming the other for the bloodshed between them. He believed the Bauerschwein was having an affair with his girlfriend, a Kehrseite who didn’t even know about the feud. They weren’t having an affair, but Miller still doesn’t believe that. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes, he let himself imagine, just briefly, what would happen if he told the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid those details are classified, beyond what I’ve already said. What I can tell you is that Senator Richards will be deeply missed, and I intend to see that justice is done.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused, bracing himself for the next question, but was met only with frightened chatter. The reporters stared at him in absolute horror. One woman screamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next part seemed to happen in slow-motion. He looked down, following the reporters’ gazes. He saw the red dot on his shirt, just above his heart. Before he could even move, he heard the shot. The ground rushed up to meet him, panic a crushing weight above him. Everything hurt: arms, legs, head where he collided with the concrete...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took him several moments too long to realize that there wasn’t any pain in his chest, and that it wasn’t panic crushing him to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All around him people screamed, but their voices seemed very far away as reality settled in. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nick </span>
  </em>
  <span>was holding him down, had pushed him out of the path of the bullet… And still wasn’t getting up. Why wasn’t he getting up? Why wasn’t he letting Sean up? Unless-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nick?” He tried to keep his voice even, but he could hardly breathe (both from fear and from the weight). “Nick, are you-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A groan. It was thick with pain, but it was still a sound for sore ears, so to speak; it meant that Nick was alive. “Keep them… Safe,” Nick muttered, and any relief faded quickly. “Adalind and… Kelly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Nick exhaled, and Sean wanted to scream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nick, no.” Then, louder- “Can I get some help over here? Someone?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paramedics appeared in a flurry, pulling Nick off of him and helping him to his feet. He barely spared them a glance, too concerned with getting a look at Nick. Nick, who was covered in blood, with three holes in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, no, no- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was Andrew all over again, and he couldn’t-he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Irrationally, all he could think was that this better not be the same thing over again. If someone was trying to recruit him, he’d do what he should have done last time: rip every last one of their throats out, without hesitation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A paramedic reached for him, obviously intent on looking him over, and he brushed her off. “I’m fine. It’s not my blood. Take care of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She paused, clearly wanting to argue, but apparently decided against it, turning back to Nick. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Smart woman.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His gaze caught on Hank and Wu, watching him, waiting for their orders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right. “Get a team together. Canvas the area. Talk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone; </span>
  </em>
  <span>no one leaves until they’ve been cleared. Someone had to have seen something.” He didn’t dare hope that the shooter was still around, but at least they could get a description. “I’ll let Adalind know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They nodded, and waved a few officers over, calling out orders. He turned back to Nick, satisfied that they would handle it. (Hank, particularly, was a natural at this. Once, he’d been planning to recommend Nick as his replacement if he ever retired, but truthfully, the pull between being a Grimm and a detective was already enough of a strain on him. These days, he had his eyes on Hank for the job.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir?” One of the paramedics, a different one from before, approached him. He was fully prepared to brush this one off as well, but the young man hurried to ask, “Do you want to come with him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He barely thought about it. “Yes. Thank you.” After all, who else would? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking one last look around the scene, he climbed into the back of the ambulance, settling on a small stool. Nick still wasn’t conscious, but he was still breathing, which meant there was still hope. Wanting to offer him even subconscious comfort, Sean reached out, resting his hand against Nick’s arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand, still coated with Nick’s blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t let him die. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind frowned, glancing at her phone. Normally, by now, Nick would have called her. He had a press conference earlier in the day, but surely it was over by now, right? She’d meant to watch it, but then Kelly had been fussy, Diana had some sort of nightmare, and it just hadn’t happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe she should call and check on him? She tried not to be that kind of wife: constantly hovering, checking in every five minutes. He had a very demanding job, and she understood that; for that matter, she did, too. She should have been enjoying her day off, not worrying about her husband. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except… He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a Grimm. And he did have a habit of finding trouble anywhere he went. (Although, surely he couldn’t have gotten into trouble at a press conference… Right?) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While she was still debating, her phone rang. The knot in her chest released, and she grinned, not even bothering to look as she answered. “Hey, you. I was just about to call you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Adalind, it’s me,” said someone who was decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Renard?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She scowled, shifting the phone to cradle between her cheek and her shoulder, freeing up her hands to start on dishes. “What’s going on? If this is about Diana, she’s fine, and no, she can’t come over early-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nick’s been shot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plate in her hand slipped back into the sink, and her phone fell to the ground. For a moment, she wasn’t altogether sure she wouldn’t follow, Renard’s words ringing in her ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nick’s been shot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And for all that she’d been worrying, she hadn’t actually expected this. Could hardly remember how to breathe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is he alive? </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was only one way to find out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Weakly, she bent over, picking up her phone and pressing it back to her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Adalind? Are you there?” Clearly, this wasn’t the first time he’d asked; his voice was thick with panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m here.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “Is he-?” She didn’t dare ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s alive.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, thank You, Lord. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“But he’s lost a lot of blood. We’re on our way to the hospital now. I don’t-I don’t know-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did this happen?” She asked, half because she could not bear to hear the end of that sentence, half because she wanted to know who, exactly, she needed to kill. (She might have been reformed, might have been redeemed, but someone hurt her husband, and they were going to pay.) “I thought he was at a press conference.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drew in a breath. “He was. That shot… It was meant for me. Nick…” He trailed off, voice shaking, but that was okay; she understood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course he did.” Even after everything Sean Renard had done to him, he did the stupid, selfless, wonderful, terrible thing that no one else would have. “Who did this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know yet.” There was something dark in his voice, something that once drew her in. Now, she could only muster gratitude for it. “Believe me, you’ll know when I do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, she didn’t think the shooter was going to jail. That suited her just fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get the kids and meet you up at the hospital.” Briefly, she thought back to Diana’s nightmare, and wondered just what it had been about. “And I should call someone. Rosalee, or-or Hank, or-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hank knows.” Surprisingly gentle for a man that was practically growling seconds before. “But Rosalee is a good call. And-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve.” Oh gosh,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Eve. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adalind was not looking forward to that conversation. “Do you think we should call Bud?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment’s hesitation. “He’ll probably see it on the news. I’d hate to worry him before we know more-” Understatement of the year; Bud and worry were an exhausting combination. “So let’s wait and see if he reaches out first.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Okay.” She ran a hand over her face, desperately trying to get her swirl of emotions under control. “And Sean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I find out that you had anything to do with this, I’ll kill you myself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without waiting for a response, she pressed the bright red button, ending the call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind wasn’t at the hospital when Sean arrived, but Monroe, Rosalee, and Eve all stood in the waiting room, eyes wide. He spared the first two an apologetic glance, before turning to Eve, heart somewhere in his stomach. She was almost deathly pale, eyes rimmed red, and her fists were clenched by her side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve, I’m so-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She started towards him, striding forward like a fierce queen, and he stumbled back a half-step instinctively. He wasn’t altogether sure she wouldn’t kill him then and there; it should have been him, after all, not Nick, and after everything he’d done…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I didn’t even know what was happening until-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her arms came around his waist fiercely, and she buried her face in his shoulder. It took him several moments to process the contact, to return the embrace. A shudder ran through him, and he let his head drop forward, resting atop hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized just how much he needed this until now; he tried to keep from clinging, to offer more comfort than he took, but the reality of the situation was screaming against his skin: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nick was shot. It looks bad. Nick Burkhardt might die for him today. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes burned, but he fiercely refused to let the tears fall, just focused on breathing in and out, on rubbing comforting circles on Eve’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she released him, looking him over. He wasn’t altogether sure what he looked like, but he could wager a guess: covered in blood, frazzled, on the verge of falling apart. She didn’t look much better, especially after their hug had left her clothes stained red. There was a metaphor in there, about everything he touched coming away covered in blood, but he didn’t care enough to track it down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on.” She held up a small bag. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cast a wary glance back to the nurses’ station, where a report could come at any time. “I don’t want to leave,” he admitted quietly, and she gave him an understanding nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. But Diana will be here soon; you don’t want to scare her, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course not. Of course he didn’t want his little girl to see him covered in blood, especially Nick’s blood. But-but-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Monroe and Rosalee will let us know if there’s any updates. Come on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the couple’s nods of confirmation, he let her lead him into the small single-stall bathroom, and lock the door behind them. She seemed unbothered by the blood, and he couldn’t help but compare her to the woman he’d once known, the one who was soft and gentle around the edges, who would have been sick to her stomach by the scene around them. Then again, that was a long time ago; neither of them were exactly who they used to be, these days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned on the faucet, let it run for a few moments, then caught his hands in hers. “Here.” Impossibly gentle, she pulled them under the water, before releasing him with one hand. Quickly acquiring soap, she rubbed her hands up and down his, wiping away the red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soap was thick and foamy, and he got lost for awhile in the suds, in the water-not quite warm, but soothing, all the same-and in her gentle touch. The sink ran red, and he absently wondered who’d be cleaning that up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was oddly vulnerable, letting someone else clean the blood from his hands. He was not, as a rule, fond of vulnerability, but the woman beside him always seemed to bring that out in him all the same. Maybe that’s why, after a moment, he allowed himself to admit, “I don’t want to lose another friend.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced at him, but didn’t slow her movements, and he felt somehow obligated to continue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that sounds crazy, after all the things I did to him. And I probably sound like some kind of hypocrite, but I never-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” Gentle but firm, as she turned her attention to rinsing away the soap. “You’re talking to the woman who got his mom killed. I’m not exactly judging.” In spite of the flippant tone, there was something in her eyes that made him wonder if she’d ever actually voiced those words aloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something close to a laugh bubbled up inside him, more hysterical than truly amused, but he held it back. “Fair point.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look she gave him wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close, and it warmed something inside him. Then, she reached into the bag, pulling out a washcloth. “Here. For your face. There’s some clothes in here, too. I stopped by your house,” she clarified at his surprise, utterly unapologetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you get in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A half shrug. “I’m a Hexenbiest.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, fair point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get changed,” she ordered. “I’ll just be next door.” Distantly, he remembered that there was another bathroom there, and he suspected she’d be washing the blood from her hands as well. Part of him wanted to offer to do it for her, to return the favor, but the other part of him wanted to be ready as quickly as possible, in case there were any updates on Nick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he got out, she was waiting for him, hands and face clean. She’d also changed clothes, into a light blue dress that was… Oddly familiar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you don’t mind.” She hesitated. “I just didn’t want to make a lot of stops, and I saw this in your guest room, so-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all.” He waved her off with an amused smile. “It’s my mother’s.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ghost of a smile flickered across her face, the closest thing to happiness he’d seen on her since arriving at the hospital. “Your mother has excellent taste.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She does.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Briefly, he allowed himself to consider the implications of her grabbing a change of clothes for herself: she’d been expecting him to still be covered in blood when she saw him, and she’d been planning to hug him anyway. That was…. Something to unpack later, when Nick wasn’t fighting for his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They made their way back to Monroe and Rosalee, now joined by Adalind, Diana, and little Kelly. To his surprise, Rosalee stepped forward, offering a hug of her own. It wasn’t as fierce as Eve’s, but still, he appreciated it. “This isn’t your fault,” she whispered, as she pulled away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Logically, he knew that. Logically, he understood that there was nothing he could have done. But surely, if he’d seen the dot sooner-if he’d reacted a little faster-if he hadn’t betrayed Nick so long ago-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>betray Nick, several times over, and Nick still saved him. How was he supposed to live with it if Nick didn’t make it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe didn’t move to hug him, but did give his arm a pat that was both awkward and thoughtful. Clearly, the Blutbad hadn’t forgiven him for his past activities, but neither was he blaming him for this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sean glanced at Adalind, half-debating offering her a hug, but Eve closed the gap first, wrapping the other woman in her arms. Probably better that way, even if it was still strange to see the two women as friends, rather than mortal enemies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana rushed forward, launching herself at him, and he barely had time to catch her. “Daddy, is Nick going to be okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would not lie to her. “I hope so, sweetie.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer didn’t seem to placate her, which wasn’t altogether surprising, but it was the best he had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doc came out while you were getting changed,” Monroe chimed in, and all eyes turned to him. He sighed. “They’ve got him in surgery, but they have no idea how long it’s going to be. It-” He cast a nervous glance at Diana, before continuing, “It looks… Not great, honestly. The good news is, it didn’t hit his heart. But he’s lost a lot of blood, and they think the bullets were coated with some kind of…” He shrugged helplessly. “Poison. So they’re fighting on a lot of different fronts. We can’t give up hope, though.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last part was aimed directly at Diana, who nodded slowly, even if she didn’t seem altogether convinced. Then again, she’d always been brighter than most. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For now, all we can do is wait. So we may as well get comfortable.” Monroe gestured to the stiff hospital chairs, and Sean nodded, settling in on the closest one, tucking Diana against his chest. She snuggled in instantly, clutching his jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve took the seat beside him, Adalind took the one beside her, and Monroe and Rosalee settled on the two-seater at the end of the row. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so they waited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to tell me what happened out there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flinched, avoiding the older man’s eyes. “There were… Complications.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Complications?” A third man rolled his eyes from his perch across the room. “Now, there’s a word for it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of complications?” Tight. Thick with warning. Not a man to be crossed, and a man that he had failed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not a good place to be. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was interference. The Grimm, Burkhardt, saved his life. Took the bullet instead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least this was enough to give his boss pause. The man frowned, brows furrowing together. “Is he…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alive. For now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” The boss swallowed, considering. “I trust that you’ll deal with this? Discreetly, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent. And I’d strongly encourage you not to let me down again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t, sir.” He couldn’t afford it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His back ached, and his head was worse, but he honestly couldn’t have cared less. The clock taunted him, announcing that it had been over an hour since the last update. An hour since he’d heard that Nick was alive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A lot could change in an hour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank and Wu’s arrival was a welcome sight, if only to serve as a distraction. They made the rounds, alternating between hugs and handshakes for everyone waiting, both of them stopping to hug Diana specifically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe relayed what he’d said before. Hank grimaced, but nodded, and Wu swallowed hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you find?” Sean cut in, the cop in him taking over. This, he could handle. Witness statements, facts, details… Anything but focusing on Nick possibly dying in the other room. “Anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank rolled his eyes, holding up a notebook dryly. “Sure. He was tall, short, skinny, fat, every skin color you can imagine, with straight and curly hair. Oh, and one person swears they saw a woman. Basically?” He shrugged. “We got nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wonderful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That was the problem with witness statements; they could never agree on anything. “Did anyone see which way he or she </span>
  <em>
    <span>went?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit of luck there, actually.” Wu cleared his throat. “The building locked down as soon as the shots were fired. Automatic. So he couldn’t go out a normal door. CSIs found a window on the second floor, broken from the inside. Odds are, that’s our exit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agreed. Any DNA?” A faint hope, but always worth a try. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even a hair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank sighed, grabbing a chair and pulling it up across from Sean. After a moment, Wu followed suit. “You know the drill, here, Captain.” Hank flipped open his notebook. “If we’re gonna look into this, we’re going to need to ask you a few questions.” He glanced hesitantly at Diana, and Adalind spoke up, following his train of thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana, honey, why don’t we go down to the gift shop?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His daughter pouted, clearly about to protest, and Wu grinned at her conspiratorially. “Why don’t you go find the weirdest stuffed animal you can? You can give it to Nick when he wakes up from surgery.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whether it was the idea, or simply the fact that Wu was the first person since her arrival to actually sound like he believed Nick </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>wake up, he wasn’t sure. Either way, she brightened considerably and nodded, taking Adalind’s hand. “Let’s go, Mommy!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as they were out of hearing range, Hank cleared his throat. “So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain, </span>
  </em>
  <span>can you think of any reason why someone might want you dead?” So thick with sarcasm that it almost sounded like a joke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scoffed. “That, ah… That might take awhile.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Why don’t we start with a few we can actually put in a report? A recent case, maybe?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A good call, even though the odds of that being the motive were painfully low. He considered slowly. “You can take a look at my files,” he decided after a minute. “But there hasn’t been anything particularly controversial.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about Miller?” Hank glanced at something in his notes. “No real next of kin, but he could have hired someone. Or maybe his girlfriend did?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ex-girlfriend, as Sean understood it. “Worth checking into, just to be safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right.” Hank flipped the notebook closed. “Now, on the 99.9% chance this has nothing to do with you being in law enforcement, what are we looking at here? The Royals?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Possible, but not likely. Since my father’s death-” This was met with surprised stares, and he briefly reevaluated. Had he really not told them? “-they haven’t really been able to rebuild. No one’s left.” Maybe he should’ve at least tried to sound a little broken up about that, but it was hard to mourn the deaths of those who mourned his birth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu considered. “What about the Resistance? I mean, you guys haven’t told me that much about them, but maybe they want to make sure the </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole </span>
  </em>
  <span>Royal family is out of the picture?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was… Not a half-bad thought, actually, and one that never would have occurred to Sean on its own. “Worth checking into. But I wouldn’t even know who to contact.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosalee, who had taken over watching Kelly, glanced up from cooing at him to say, “I’ll make some calls.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He forgot, sometimes, exactly how </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrifyingly </span>
  </em>
  <span>well-connected that woman was. “I appreciate that.” Too late, he realized that she was doing it for Nick, not him, and he braced himself for the sarcastic and well-deserved retort, but she only offered him a weak smile, returning her attention to the baby. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be long before her own children would be born. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Triplets, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if he heard right. The Calvert household would have a whole pack of kids running around. Hopefully all of their time trying to keep Nick out of trouble prepared them for chasing high-energy forces of chaos everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile played at his lips at the comparison. How would Nick feel about that, he wondered? Probably flattered, knowing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, not to bring up the obvious, but what about Black Claw?” Wu shrugged. Sean noted with interest that Hank seemed to be stepping back, letting the other man take the lead. Maybe he saw, as Sean did, the potential to make detective-and soon, if he kept this up-and was giving him a chance to train. “I mean, you can’t exactly be their favorite person in the world these days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve chimed in before he could. “Trubel said that Black Claw was gone.” She glanced at him, assessing, and he gave a sharp nod. That matched what he’d heard, at the very least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu wasn’t deterred. “Maybe the organization as a whole, but maybe some nut managed to keep them from capturing him, and now he’s got an axe to grind?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t be the first time they sent someone to kill me,” Sean admitted. This time, he was expecting the curious glances. It wasn’t as if he’d ever mentioned this to them either, and with good reason. At the time, none of them would have cared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Eve seemed genuinely bothered by this, and he took a brief moment to appreciate her before replying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They sent three men to take care of me. I took care of them instead. They haven’t messed with me since then.” That might have left out a few details, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit to chatting with the ghost of his best friend. He shrugged. “But that was over a year ago. I can’t imagine why they’d try again </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank took all of this in, exchanged a wary glance with Wu, and nodded. “So what you’re saying is…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve still got nothing.” Wu finished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More or less. Rosalee could look into the Resistance, and he’d make a few calls about the Royals, but he wouldn’t even know where to start with Black Claw. Everyone he’d known from that was dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, talk to the witnesses again. I want you to nail down everything you can about them. And just to be safe, take a look at the files in my office.” He fished his key out from his pocket, and handed it to Hank. “And look into Miller’s ex. I want to make sure she wasn’t connected to this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An obvious question hung in the air-</span>
  <em>
    <span>why wasn’t he going with them?-</span>
  </em>
  <span>but maybe the answer was just as obvious: Nick took a bullet for him. He couldn’t leave until he knew Nick was okay. Regardless, after a moment, Hank nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call us if you hear anything.” More than a request: a warning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe stood. “We will, man. Promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu paused, considering. “Hey, where’s Trubel? Shouldn’t she be here?” That was another good question, actually; he hadn’t heard anything about her in awhile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosalee nodded. “I contacted her, but she was pretty far South. She’s headed this way now, but I have no idea when she’ll get here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Hank and Wu vanished, and Sean turned his attention back to the clock. </span>
  <em>
    <span>An hour and forty-five minutes since the last update. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you find out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Theresa Rubel is heading to Portland, to check on Burkhardt. I understand that the two are close.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed. This might be even easier than expected.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I call her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Wait until we hear about Burkhardt. She’ll be unpredictable until she knows if he’ll live or die.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good, sir.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Three hours. Three hours of waiting, of sitting in uncomfortable chairs and watching the minutes tick by. They’d mostly been sitting in silence, except for the flurry of activity when Diana and Adalind came back. (And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana must’ve taken Wu’s order to find the weirdest animal she could seriously, because that monstrosity looked somewhere between a duck and a dog, and it was so ugly that everyone instantly loved it.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once or twice, someone tried to break the silence with an amusing story about Nick, but it always felt too much like a wake, like sharing stories about a dead man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve was grateful when they stopped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced at her phone, more out of reflex than anything; it wasn’t like she got an abundance of calls these days, and most of the people who did call her were in this room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>8:30 PM. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was settled in front of Sean’s phone, earbuds in, watching some colorful cartoon that Eve didn’t recognize. If things had been different-if Kelly had been her child instead of Adalind’s-would she know it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She cut off the thought fiercely. She didn’t go there anymore, and with good reason. She’d long-forgiven Adalind, and she knew that Kelly was lucky to have such a wonderful mother. Besides, she truly had let Nick go… Mostly. (Her gaze darted to Sean, just for a moment, but she cut that train of thought off before it started. It felt out of place in this setting, waiting anxiously to hear if Nick was dead or alive.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just that… Well. If things had been different-if Kelly was hers, and she’d never become a Hexenbiest, if she’d never gotten Nick’s mother killed, if she was still Juliette, if everything hadn’t gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong-</span>
  </em>
  <span>maybe, somehow, Nick wouldn’t have been in there, fighting for his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ding of the elevator drew her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Hank and Wu returning, grinning ear to ear, with a couple of figures behind them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look who we found,” Hank announced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took a moment to catch a glimpse, but when she did, she was on her feet without thinking, striding forward. “Trubel!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The younger woman met her halfway, clinging fiercely, shaking and burying her face in Eve’s shoulder. It felt like a dam breaking, and she wondered exactly how long the poor girl had been fighting tears, refusing to let go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stroked her hair with one hand, holding her with the other, and for a moment it seemed they were both trying to hold Nick together by the force of their hug alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Trubel raised her head, wiping fiercely at her eyes. “How is he?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t know.” She quickly relayed the message from before, adding, “But that was three hours ago.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Three hours?” Trubel whirled around, marching up to the nurses’ station. “Can anyone tell me how Nick Burkhardt is doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nurse in charge consulted her file, before frowning. “Are you family?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Trubel didn’t hesitate, but the nurse seemed unconvinced, and as easy as it would be to let Trubel lie to her, Eve decided to keep it simple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Adalind, could you come here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Giving Rosalee a quick look, silently asking her to watch Kelly again, Adalind nodded, making her way to the desk. “Everything okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel followed Eve’s lead, gesturing to Adalind. “This is his wife. So, please, can you tell us how he is?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The nurse hesitated a moment longer, glancing between Eve and Trubel, and Adalind waved her hand. “Look, anything you say to me, I’m just going to turn around and tell them </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyway, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and in case you didn’t notice, my husband was </span>
  <em>
    <span>shot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and-” Her voice broke. “I really don’t want to have to repeat this if it’s bad.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shoulders sagging, the nurse nodded. “Of course, honey.” She studied the screen in front of her for a moment. “All I know is that he’s still in surgery. But that’s not surprising; honestly, this could take awhile. Not a bad sign, I promise; just how it is with gunshot wounds. If I were you, I’d go home and get some sleep.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t seem to expect them to listen, and they didn’t bother to tell her they wouldn’t, just turned back to Hank, Wu, and the other figure. His hair was shaggier, and he had a terrifying beard, so it took her a moment to recognize him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Josh?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waved awkwardly. “Hey, Ju-um. Eve.” He glanced at Trubel, who nodded in confirmation. “I was out, helping Trubel with some Grimm stuff when she got the call. I just… Didn’t want to leave her alone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you’re here.” She stepped forward, giving him a brief hug that he awkwardly returned, before pulling away. “Nick will be, too. Come on, have a seat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The five of them returned to the group, who greeted Trubel with warm hugs, and Josh with polite handshakes and surprised stares. Sean, for his part, seemed utterly confused, and Eve absently wondered if he’d ever even heard about Josh. Probably not, she decided. Settling back in her seat, she murmured, “Josh Porter. Father was a Grimm, Josh isn’t. His father had one of the keys.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.” He glanced between Josh and Trubel. “They’re… Close?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently. But I don’t know if it’s close like her and Nick, or…” She trailed off, watching them curiously. Honestly, she didn’t particularly care what was or wasn’t going on between the two; she was just glad that Trubel wasn’t out there fighting alone anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hummed. “Fair enough.” To Hank and Wu, he added, “So did you two find anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu brightened. “Yes, actually,” he replied, and all eyes turned to him (aside from Diana, still caught up in her show, and Kelly, snoozing happily). “One of your files. A couple of weeks ago, with the Mendez case? It says you got half a dozen death threats.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded in recognition. Obviously the name meant something to him, and Eve braced herself, already ready to go after this guy, when she caught the expression on Sean’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a Reinigen. Nick told me.” He shrugged. “Calmed down pretty quickly after I woged. Besides, he’s still locked up, and he doesn’t have any family to speak of.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu’s shoulders sagged, and with them, the mood of the entire group. “So, we’ve got nothing. Again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was crazy. Someone took a shot at the captain of a police precinct in broad daylight, and they didn’t even have any clues? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything on the broken window? What caused the break, maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Afraid not. Something big, but we don’t know what.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was getting awfully tired of not knowing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, so, you’re Wesen?” Josh checked, nodding to Sean, who looked somewhere between annoyed and faintly amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zauberbiest,” Trubel chimed in before Sean could reply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that’s like a Hexenbiest?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve barely stifled a grin at the huff Sean gave at </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trubel made no such effort as she replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, kinda. Hexenbiests are the girls, Zauberbiests are the dudes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone but Hank settled into chairs, apparently done investigating for the night. That was fair, and Eve hoped Sean wouldn’t push them. It was late, they were all tired, and everyone was still worried about Nick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A nurse could probably tell you where to find it,” Monroe pointed out, but Hank waved him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. I spent a lot of time in hospitals with my first wife,” he replied, and it could have been a joke-maybe she was a doctor, or worked in the cafeteria-but it lacked his usual playful tone. There was something grim on his face that made Eve stop, reevaluating what she knew about him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Married four times, she knew. She always thought he was four times divorced as well-Nick always assumed as much-but now, she wondered if it was that simple. The sadness in his eyes was telling her </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway.” He gave an awkward shrug, clearly not loving the realizations on everyone’s faces. (Wu and Sean alone seemed unsurprised, Eve noted.) “I got pretty good at finding the break rooms. Thing about hospital coffee is, it’s disgusting, but it’ll keep you awake.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you get me some, too?” Adalind requested, and he nodded, a moment of understanding passing between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked away, and Adalind turned to Eve. “Hey, I have to run to the ladies’ room. Do you mind watching Kelly for a minute? You can hold him, if you want to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve’s breath caught in her chest, and she gave a sharp nod, the only thing she could manage. After </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything she’d done? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She tried to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill </span>
  </em>
  <span>this child, more than once; how could Adalind possibly trust her with him now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could feel everyone’s eyes on her, watching her curiously as Adalind walked away, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, hated that she knew exactly what they were looking for, hated the way they must have been seeing right through her. Forcing herself to ignore them, she bent over, scooping Kelly up from his carrier and setting him on her lap. He settled in easily, snuggling into her without hesitation, and she couldn’t altogether remember how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so tiny. Oh, he’d grown a lot over the past several months, but compared to her, he was still just a little thing. Fragile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Breakable. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he was trusting her, because he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t know what she’d done to his mother, what she’d tried to do to him. Because he didn’t know that she was the reason his grandmother was dead, that his sister spent the better part of a year with a family not her own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He likes you,” Rosalee commented, voice soft, and Eve thought she might cry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. He does.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So little. If Nick didn’t make it through this, Kelly would never remember what his father looked like. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, Nick, please. For your son. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you guys really don’t know who did it?” Trubel seemed as bothered by this as they all were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu shook his head. “We’ve gone through the usual suspects: Royals, old cases, Resistance, Black Claw… Nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the other people?” Josh asked, and everyone turned to him, baffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>other people?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Josh shrugged, obviously not expecting this much attention. “The other people.” To Trubel, he added, “You said there was Black Claw, right? And he was part of that. But then there were the other people. The ones trying to stop Black Claw. The ones you work for?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hadrian’s Wall. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eve’s stomach dropped, and she looked at Trubel, desperately hoping to see anything on the younger woman’s face except for what was there: the dawning horror at the realization that it was entirely possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t think-” Eve started, and Trubel grimaced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make a call.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t bring herself to even look at the others. If this truly was HW, this was on her. Those were her people. Instead, she focused on Trubel, who was cradling the phone by her ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, something occurred to her. “Wait. Josh, you know about HW?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, clearly not altogether sure what to do with the question, and she gestured to Trubel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t they supposed to be classified?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel glanced up at her. “Yeah? What’s your point?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And really, what was there to say to that? “Fair enough.” She determinedly ignored the quiet chuckle beside her, refusing to let her own lips twitch until she knew for sure that-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Trubel.” Someone answered the phone, then. Good. “I’m calling about the shooting in Portland today. Happened around four o’clock. Someone tried to take out a police captain. Was that us?” Silence, then an annoyed huff. “Then get me someone who </span>
  <em>
    <span>can.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Another silence, longer. “Thank you. This is about-” A pause. Then, she went pale, and Eve knew the answer before she even said a word. “You know you got a Grimm instead, right?” She asked, and everyone drew in sharp breaths. “Yeah. Nick Burkhardt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If HW was behind this, it was going to be hard to do anything about it. They were protected by the highest branches of government, and they wouldn’t have gone after Sean if it hadn’t been for his involvement in Black Claw. Glancing at him, she saw the same concerns scrawled across his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In front of her, Trubel was still determinedly arguing with someone on the phone. Unexpectedly, she went still. “Look, I know Renard’s done some-</span>
  <em>
    <span>no,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m not defending him. Meisner was my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eve flinched, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sean do the same. “But apparently, Renard is under Nick’s protection. And that means he’s under mine.” Eve was so startled by </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she could barely work up the focus to nod when Trubel glanced questioningly at her. “And Eve’s. Trust me, if he hurts anybody else, I’ll be the first in line to take him out, but otherwise? This isn’t a fight you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beside her, Sean looked half-ready to pass out. Eve thought she might, as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few moments, Trubel sighed, handing Eve the phone. “They want to talk to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve hesitated, all too aware of where this would probably go. “They’re going to try to reactivate my training,” she warned quietly, and Rosalee reached over, resting a hand on her arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We aren’t going to let that happen,” She promised fiercely, and the others nodded in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe scooted closer, reaching over to cover his wife’s hand with his own, and Sean squeezed her shoulder, grounding her. Wu came around beside him, careful not to disturb Diana in her seat, and Josh followed suit. Trubel gave an encouraging nod, and Eve took a breath. One hand still holding Kelly in place, she lifted the phone up to hear ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Complete the mission, Eve.” His voice was even. Mechanical. “Complete the mission. You must complete the mission, Eve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Complete the mission. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They drilled it into her head, once. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Comply. Comply. Do what you’re told. Follow orders. Complete the mission. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She closed her eyes, fiercely trying to fight against the barrage in her mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No-” She managed, but it was weak, and she knew it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I order you to complete the mission. Complete the mission, Eve.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eve. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was a reason they’d given her such a short name, and it had nothing to do with starting over. It was the key, the thing they could always use to bring her back under their control. Eve was exactly who they’d made her to be: </span>
  <em>
    <span>trained, compliant, useful. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Complete the mission. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve, I order you to complete the mission. You will complete the mission.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even have to say what it was. It was obvious: finish what HW started. Kill Sean Renard, and put an end to this. Her fingers twitched by her sides, and she knew she couldn’t fight this much longer. Whatever they’d done to her, it was thorough, and she could feel herself losing control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She would complete the mission. Because that was who she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was who Eve was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A half-idea flickered in her mind, and she grappled for it. It was terrifying, unbearable in its implications, but she forced herself to imagine it. Could she really do it? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve, complete the mission.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her gaze flickered to Renard-to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sean, </span>
  </em>
  <span>watching her with wide eyes, then to the bathroom door, where Adalind was just stepping out, completely unaware of what was happening, smiling weakly at the sight of her children. Then, to Diana, cheerfully watching her show, oblivious to how close her father was to possible death. Finally, she looked to Hank, who was just coming back with two cups of coffee in hand. Also completely unaware. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could she do this?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eve, complete the mission.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holding Kelly a little tighter, she decided she could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“My name isn’t Eve.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was almost a growl, ripped from her throat. Kelly fussed, startled by the noise, but she ignored him, plowing on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s Juliette Silverton.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ignored the sharp gasps of the people around her, and the suffocating images of burning trailers and a head in a box, focusing instead on the intense, overwhelming relief. HW might have been able to control Eve, but they had no hold on Juliette Silverton. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Calmer, she added, “And if you ever come after my family again, I’ll kill you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pause, then the crisp response: “I’m afraid we are no longer in need of your services. Do not contact us again.” With that, he hung up, and she stared at the phone in disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he just fired me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others glanced at each other hesitantly, and her heart dropped. What if this was too far for them? They could keep working with Eve, this woman who was like Juliette without the baggage, could pretend that she was a different person altogether. But this? Maybe the cost for saving Sean would be-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosalee reached over, hugging her tightly, cutting off her thoughts. “Welcome back,” she murmured, and Juliette couldn’t help but note the lack of surprise in her voice. How long had she known that Juliette was still in there, hidden beneath layers of Eve?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The others echoed Rosalee’s sentiments, and she exhaled shakily, tension draining from her. That was short-lived, however, when Hank and Adalind reached her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Adalind asked. “That looked like a pretty intense phone call.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t hear. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Juliette grappled for words, but found herself painfully short. Unlike with the others, Juliette and Adalind had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>been friends. There was no hope of </span>
  <em>
    <span>going back to the way things were before; </span>
  </em>
  <span>neither of them wanted that. She had no reason to be happy about this new development, and Juliette had no idea how to tell her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sean handled it for her. “Juliette just handled the people who shot Nick. I don’t think they’ll be trying that again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind smiled gratefully, then paused, considering. “Juliette?” Her voice was a little too careful, and she glanced at Kelly in a way that shouldn’t have stung, but did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Wu’s phone rang, and he mouthed </span>
  <em>
    <span>excuse me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>stepping out of the room. Internally, she had to wonder if he was just taking the excuse to get out of there, in case things got bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliette swallowed. “Yeah. Listen, Adalind, I’m so, so sorry for everything I did to you. I know I should have said it sooner, but I just wasn’t ready to accept that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the one that did it. You know? And I understand if you never forgive me, but-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind reached forward, and Juliette leaned back, releasing Kelly to her. Except Adalind made no move to take her child, instead wrapping her arms around Juliette and giving her a quick hug. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears burned in Juliette’s eyes, and she nodded. “Of course I will.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank handed Adalind her coffee, and everyone retreated back to their seats, looking more than a little exhausted. A few nurses cast curious glances their way, but they were all too smart to question whatever just happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe cleared his throat. “Hey, not to rain on the parade or anything, but if HW was behind all this, what are you gonna tell the public? I mean, someone tried to shoot the captain of a police precinct. People are going to want answers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, HW?” Hank glanced between them. “You’re kidding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not kidding.” Sean grimaced. “We can’t go after them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they may not want the fight, but neither do we. They’re connected, and there’s lots of ‘em. I think they’ll back off now, but we can’t go after them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what are you going to tell people?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about the name of the shooter?” Wu strode back into the room, a half-grin on his face. “Guy just marched into the precinct, turned himself in. Gun’s a preliminary match to the one used, he described the process… So far, it looks like that’s our guy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Juliette hummed. “HW sacrificed him to protect themselves.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We think that’s actually the guy? Or is he just some unlucky idiot they got to confess?” Hank checked, but Juliette shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They wouldn’t risk it. That’s him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank nodded. “Alright. I think guys at the station can process him. Wu and I will stay up here.” To Adalind, he added, “You should probably take the kids and go home. Get some rest. It’s late.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head fiercely. “I can’t. Hank, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was smart enough not to argue. “At least let me talk to the nurse and get you a cot. We might be up here awhile.” At her grateful nod, he made his way to the nurses’ station, and Juliette glanced at the clock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>9:30 PM.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you finally ready to let Sean go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His boss sighed. “We cannot afford a war with the Grimms. And now, with Eve gone and Juliette unleashed, it’s too risky. But I trust that you’ll be keeping an eye on Renard for us?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gladly.” Martin Meisner smiled, taking a swig of his coffee. “You should’ve sent me in the first place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His boss raised a brow. “You wouldn’t have taken a shot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you wouldn’t have a Grimm in the hospital right now, fighting for his life. Would that have really been so bad?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t get cocky, Meisner. And remember, discretion is key. No one can know you’re alive.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meisner shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, sir. He won’t even know I’m there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As a rule, Rosalee appreciated the quiet. She wasn’t a fan of talking for the sake of talking, and the truth was that sometimes, silence was exactly what was needed. Besides, the quiet gave her a chance to observe the people around her. Monroe, for instance, was nearly shaking beside her. Trying to hold it together as best he could, for everyone’s sakes, but terrified, all the same. She reached out, catching his hand with hers, and squeezed firmly. His smile was weak but grateful, as he laced their fingers together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel, for her part, was wound so tightly that Rosalee thought she might snap. Her fists were clenched on her lap, and her jaw was set, staring down that wall clock like it was a trained </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hundjäger</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Rosalee understood all too well the urge to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do something, anything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> to help, but at the moment, there was nothing any of them could do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daddy?” Diana’s voice was low. Hesitant. “I’m hungry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosalee’s stomach growled, a fierce reminder that none of them but Kelly had eaten since Nick took those bullets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel hopped to her feet in an instant, like a rubber band released. “I’ll go grab some pizzas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll come with you,” Rosalee offered. “I’ll have to get something for Monroe, anyway,” she pointed out when Trubel hesitated. Maybe it was obvious that she was just as desperate for something to do as Trubel, or maybe the younger girl didn’t want to be alone (unlikely, even after everything, but Rosalee could always hope), but either way, after a few moments, Trubel nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They took Rosalee’s car, Trubel settling into the passenger’s seat with a sigh, running a hand over her face. Rosalee took the opportunity to watch her out of the corner of her eye, trying to see how she was holding up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not well, </span>
  </em>
  <span>if the tension in the poor girl was anything to go by. The unfairness of it all struck Rosalee suddenly, and she swallowed hard. Trubel had lost so much…. Her parents, her safety, Juliette (at least temporarily), and Meisner. Nick couldn’t-</span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t-</span>
  </em>
  <span>be the next one on that list. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about it,” Trubel blurted, and Rosalee winced, wondering exactly how obvious her ‘subtle staring’ had been. “Nick, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” She was hardly going to argue with her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it.” Trubel scowled. “He’s gonna be fine, so there’s nothing to talk about.” It would almost have been convincing, if her voice wasn’t shaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keeping her voice deliberately casual, Rosalee hummed. “Okay. That’s fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Trubel crossed her arms over her chest, settling back in her seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what have you and Josh been up to?” She glanced at the rearview mirror, ridiculously paranoid that someone might be tailing them (so sue her, it had been a really long day), before adding, “You said you were down South somewhere?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Trubel hesitated, maybe weighing exactly how much she felt like chatting, but if she didn’t want to talk about Nick, the least Rosalee could do was pull her out of her own head a little. “We were in a little town close to Winston. Thought there was a rogue Wesen there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curiosity briefly replacing the pit of dread in her stomach, Rosalee arched a brow. “There wasn’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.” A tight smile. “Rogue Grimm.” Well, that was a horrifying mental picture. It had been a long time since Rosalee was a little girl, hiding under the covers so that the ‘Grimm didn’t get her,’ but the dread wasn’t so far away as she would have liked. “Don’t worry,” Trubel added, a little dryly. “There’s not, now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And sometimes, Rosalee wondered if the stories were as exaggerated as she wanted to believe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say, uh..” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced over, but Trubel stared determinedly ahead, refusing to meet her gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you and Nick meet?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she did want to talk about Nick. Interesting. “We… We met when my brother died.” She’d long-reached the point where she could talk about Freddy without breaking, but this time, her throat was impossibly tight. It took her a few seconds too long to realize why. Clearing her throat, she added, “He was working the case. I was terrified of him that first day, but after that… It was like, even though I lost a brother, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d never voiced the thought aloud before, and she found that she couldn’t do it then; not with Nick’s survival still a huge question mark between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No matter; Trubel filled in the blanks. “You found one, too.” Then, quieter- “So did I.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unable to resist, Rosalee reached out, giving Trubel’s shoulder a squeeze. “Hey. He’s going to be okay, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel nodded shakily, squeezing her eyes shut. After a few moments, she let out a shuddering exhale, and looked up with a laugh that was just a bit too watery to be convincing. “So, how are the kids?” She gestured to Rosalee’s belly for emphasis, and Rosalee couldn’t help but smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re doing great. Doctors say they’ll be here in the next couple of weeks.” Personally, she hoped it’d be sooner. She was getting rather tired of waddling everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you thought about names?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A little.” Everyone talked about how hard it was to name one baby, but thinking of three names that both she and Monroe could agree on was starting to wear on her. “One of the boys is going to be Felix, for sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Recognition flickered in Trubel’s eyes. “After Monroe’s uncle.” Quiet. Regretful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. But the other boy, and the girl…. I just… I don’t know. We’ve talked about Hap, or Freddy, or even-” She hesitated, realizing too late that this would just open old wounds, but Trubel was already waiting expectantly, so she continued, “Martin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sharp inhale. “Like Meisner.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm. And for the girl… I don’t know. Monroe thought about Angelina, but we both thought that was a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too… </span>
  </em>
  <span>Much.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Angelina?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Monroe’s ex.” At Trubel’s raised eyebrows, she added, “She died saving his life, but it’s still…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Weird, yeah.” Trubel shook her head. “Wow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fell silent after that, but it was a different kind of silent than before: comfortable, almost relaxed, and with a new sort of understanding between them. Finally, Trubel cleared her throat, cutting into the quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks. For, uh… Coming with me. I…” She trailed off, predictably uncomfortable with heart to hearts, and Rosalee smiled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” She shrugged. “I love him, too, you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there was really nothing more to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nearly five in the morning when Sean woke, surprised that he’d been able to fall asleep at all. The events of the past few hours were clearly wearing on him more than he’d realized. (And he wasn’t sure if anyone else knew, but he saw the look in Eve’s eyes, the way she twitched right before she’d broken free with a fierce declaration that she was Juliette-and</span>
  <em>
    <span> that </span>
  </em>
  <span>was something he’d have to deal with later, when this was over-and he knew he’d come very close to dying for the second time in 24 hours.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana snored from her perch on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. Monroe’s coat was draped over her, and she clutched it with one hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind seemed somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, tossing and turning on the hospital-issued cot. Sean’s heart broke for her, and he took a moment to hope for her sake that Nick would pull through. Not just for his own sanity, or Juliette’s conscious, but for the woman that had lost too much, and deserved nothing but the best. He wasn’t proud of the way he’d reacted when he realized she was in love with Nick, oh so long ago. He’d always hated things he couldn’t control, and that love hadn’t fit into the perfect family picture Black Claw had given him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If only he could take it all back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rosalee slept peacefully on Monroe’s shoulder, his hand resting firmly on her baby bump. Monroe, Sean noticed, was wide awake, watching the seconds tick by on the clock. He caught Sean’s gaze, giving a tired nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel was leaning back against the wall, hand behind her back (definitely grasping some sort of weapon, and Sean hoped the hospital staff didn’t catch her with it), eyes half-opened, and Sean suspected that was the closest she’d get to sleep for awhile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank and Wu watched the nurses’ station, though the latter seemed to be nodding off. Sean gave him five minutes, tops, unless he caught himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Poor-what was his name? Jo? Josh?-seemed utterly out of place, settled on the floor beside Kelly’s carrier, quietly watching over him. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. Not used to sleeping anywhere but a comfy bed, perhaps? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, his eyes were drawn to Juliette. She seemed to be asleep, head resting against the back of the chair (and didn’t that look horribly uncomfortable?), but he had a feeling that she could be awake and fighting before he could even stand up, if someone approached. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was, all things considered, rather remarkable: Kehrseites, Wesen, and Grimms, all sharing the same tiny space, some at rest, trusting one another not to take advantage. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only Nick, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought wryly. Only Nick could bring people together like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if on cue, a nurse rose, making her way to the group. “I have an update on Nicholas Burkhardt,” she announced, and everyone but Diana woke in an instant, watching her intently. Sean could hear his pulse thundering in his ears, so loud that he could hardly hear the woman speaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please, don’t let him die. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is he?” Adalind asked, and everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for her answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled, and for the first time in hours, Sean could breathe. “He’s stable. We were able to treat the poison, and sewed up the gunshot wounds. He’s weak, but it looks like he’s going to pull through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hank asked the question they were all thinking. “Is he awake?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, the nurse smiled. “He is. You can go back to see him if you want, but hospital policy limits it to two visitors at a time.” Glancing at Diana, who was slowly waking up, she added, “And none under the age of ten.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right. Of course not. That made sense, of course, and he was hardly going to be one of the first to go back there. Basically everyone else had more of a right to be there than him, after all. Still, the restless urge to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nick, to make sure for himself that he was still alive, scratched urgently under his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, the nurse softened. “But I have… A very important phone call to make. So I absolutely won’t be able to watch for the next five minutes. I trust that you won’t all decide to go at once to room 113?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was not, as a rule, the tactile sort, but just at the moment, he could have hugged her. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said instead, rising to his feet, Diana tucked securely against his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hospitals sucked. Of course, Nick was grateful that they existed, but that didn’t mean he </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. He’d never had such an uncomfortable bed in his life, and the gown he was wearing made him feel ridiculous. And the food looked-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well. Maybe he should have been counting his blessings. He was alive, after all, and there were a few moments today (yesterday?) where that was up in the air. Still, though, he was tired, he was uncomfortable, and everything ached. Not as much as he might have expected, after getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>shot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he’d definitely had more pleasant days at the office. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… Huh. He wondered absently exactly how strong the pain meds they had him on were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door clicked open, distracting him from his thoughts, and a whole crowd came swarming in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind was first, Kelly in her arms, and Nick could have cried with relief. She looked exhausted, hair sticking in all directions, and he was quite sure she’d just woken up, but she was stunning. He was only half-aware of the others coming in as he pulled her close, kissing her as fiercely as he could manage. Kelly fussed quietly, trapped between them, and Nick broke the kiss, dropping one to his son’s forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Adalind whispered, voice trembling, and he wanted more than anything to take away the fear there. “Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>do something like that again, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rather than make a promise he knew he couldn’t keep, he simply pressed his lips to hers once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, don’t mind us.” Hank cut in dryly. “You guys aren’t making this super awkward for us or anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Breaking the kiss with a chuckle, Adalind pulled back, securing Kelly in her arms once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick took the opportunity to look around at the others crowding around them: Hank, still smirking as he leaned back against the wall. To his left, Wu, shaking his head in amusement. To Hank’s right, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Trubel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Nick could only stare in disbelief. Wasn’t she supposed to be out of town? Beside her stood a man Nick almost didn’t recognize. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Josh? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Looking decidedly uncomfortable, even as he awkwardly waved. Beyond him, Monroe and Rosalee stood, both looking like they hadn’t slept in days. Finally, Renard and Eve had both settled in the corner, arms crossed over their chests. Renard held Diana in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve looked… Different, somehow, in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Familiar, but different, and she refused to meet his gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without warning, Diana started squirming, forcing Renard to put her down. “Nick!” She scrambled forward, clambering onto the bed beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind gasped. “Diana!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s okay.” Nick grinned, shifting his arm to make more room for the girl. “Just steer clear of the wires, okay?” He deliberately kept the question gentle and light, not wanting to frighten Diana. Her eyes were rimmed red, and she clung to him so tightly, his heart broke a little. “Hey. I’m okay, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, snuggling into his chest, and he let her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spared a glance to Renard, desperately hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with scowling jealousy and snarky remarks, but Renard seemed oddly subdued, just giving a simple nod in response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few minutes were a blur of hugs, ranging from tearful (Trubel, her face buried in his shoulder, as she angrily muttered, “I promised I wouldn’t cry anymore,”) to awkward (Josh, who seemed to think he had to hug Nick, but wasn’t altogether sure he wanted to). Rosalee and Monroe both held him fiercely, and Hank ruffled his hair after he pulled away, so much reminiscent of their early days working together that Nick wanted to laugh. In the end, only Eve and Renard abstained, though Eve looked like she was considering it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterward, Diana cleared her throat. “Mommy, give Nick his friend.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Friend? Nick looked up curiously, a grin tugging at his lips, and Adalind laughed, reaching into her purse and pulling out… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was decidedly the ugliest stuffed animal Nick had ever seen, and it took everything in him to stifle his laughter, not wanting to hurt her feelings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adalind handed the creature over, and Nick turned it over carefully in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Diana. That’s really thoughtful of you.” He smiled at her, and she beamed back, poking the thing playfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His name’s Renard,” she said cheerfully, and the room fell silent. “Like mine. He’ll protect you. Like you protected Daddy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he loved his stepdaughter regardless, but in moments like this, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>impossibly </span>
  </em>
  <span>grateful for her. He managed-barely-to keep his laughter in check, even as his friends’ eyes danced. Renard (the human), for his part, looked decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoyed, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but the corners of his lips twitched, giving him away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of Renard… “Hey, do we know who..” He trailed off, glancing pointedly at Diana. He didn’t want to upset her, but he really wanted to know exactly why he was in a hospital bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trubel grimaced, clearly understanding his unfinished train of thought. “HW.” And </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he definitely didn’t see that one coming. “Don’t worry: they definitely won’t be making that mistake again. Me and J-um. You know.” She gestured to Eve. “We took care of it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eve somehow looked even more uncomfortable than, shifting in place, and Nick opened his mouth to question it, but Renard cut in first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have a suspect in custody. He confessed, and his weapon is a preliminary match.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” He frowned, turning back to Eve. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” She scoffed, and it might have been more convincing if she could have met his eyes. “I mean, you’re the one in the hospital bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There it was again. Something in her voice, her stance, was impossibly familiar. After a few seconds, it clicked in his brain exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>why, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he could hardly breathe. “Juliette?” He almost didn’t dare ask, didn’t dare </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope- </span>
  </em>
  <span>(and why was he hoping, exactly? After everything she’d done, it should have been dread creeping up in his chest, not something warm and edging toward relief). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shuddered, then nodded, eyes falling shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HW tried to activate her training. Get her to take out Renard.” Trubel stepped forward, surprisingly defensive. (Although after everything, maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise.) “Eve couldn’t stop it. Juliette could.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to catch E-</span>
  <em>
    <span>Juliette’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>eyes, keeping his expression deliberately gentle, but she absolutely refused to look at him. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Juliette, look at me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every inch of her radiated tension, but she complied, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she blurted before he could even get a word in. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you. And for Kelly, and-and </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>Kelly, and Adalind, and-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He held out a hand. The air was almost suffocating as she stared, but after a second, she stepped forward, reaching out for him. She caught herself, hand lingering in the air between them, and he hesitated for only a second before grabbing it, tugging her in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Either too startled or too relieved to resist, she fell into the embrace. It was more than a little uncomfortable-she was on the wrong side to maneuver all of the wires and tubes, and she barely seemed to know how to respond-but it still eased an ache in his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re okay,” he promised, and she shuddered in his arms. “We’re okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes were watery when she pulled away, but at least the tension seemed to be gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she stepped back, Renard stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Speaking of apologies,” he began, and Nick tensed. Juliette was one thing-she’d helped him so much that he had no way to doubt that she’d changed-but if Renard thought a ‘sorry’ and a hug could fix everything with </span>
  <em>
    <span>them… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently some of his thoughts showed on his face, because Renard held up his hands in surrender. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I don’t expect this to be easy. I don’t expect things to just… Go back to the way they were. But you took a bullet for me-three, actually-when you didn’t have to. Even after everything I did to you, you still-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was doing my job,” he said simply, careful to keep the edge out of his voice. Diana seemed to be nodding off, but he didn’t want to upset her, all the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small smile played at Renard’s lips. “Above and beyond the call of duty, Nick. But listen, I know you didn’t do it for me. You did it because that’s who you are. And I-I lost sight of that, for awhile. I won’t make excuses; Black Claw got inside my head, but I made my own choices. I forgot why I was protecting you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I was useful?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At first.” A small shrug. “Then… Because you were different.” He made no move to elaborate on </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>although Nick had a few dozen questions about it. “I’m truly sorry for the things I did to you. And I won’t forget what you’ve done for me. I’ve chosen a side. I just hope it’s not too late.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t altogether sure how to respond to </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Renard didn’t seem to expect him to, just stepped back to his spot against the wall. Juliette reached out, patting his arm, and he smiled softly at her in response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was-that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very weird. </span>
  </em>
  <span>That-</span>
  <em>
    <span>nope. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He would deal with that another day, when he wasn’t in pain, in a hospital room, and a year past exhausted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened, and the doctor stepped through, brows shooting up his face. “What in the world is going on here? This is-</span>
  <em>
    <span>out! All of you!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He scowled at the group, and Nick half-expected him to woge, but he only glared. “Only two people visiting at a time. And no </span>
  <em>
    <span>kids.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe’s eyes flashed red, but Rosalee squeezed his arm reassuringly, and he sighed. “Alright, alright. I should probably be getting my wife home, anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Wu and I need to get back to the station before long anyway,” Hank announced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Josh cleared his throat. “I’ll head on out. Glad you’re okay,” he added, nodding to Nick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Juliette made her way toward the door, making her intentions clear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to stay.” Trubel seemed hesitant, as if she wasn’t altogether sure she had a right to ask, but Adalind nodded easily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too. Sean…” She gestured to her daughter. “Could Diana go home with you? Maybe now she can sleep in a real bed.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Sean stepped forward, and Nick hesitated, glancing between Kelly and Adalind thoughtfully. If Kelly couldn’t stay, but Adalind was, he’d have to go home with someone. And Monroe and Rosalee would probably take him if they asked-or even Eve-but something in him begging to try something else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He met Adalind’s eyes in silent question, and saw the same swirl of emotions reflected in her eyes. She gave a slow nod, and he turned to Renard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mind watching Kelly for a few hours?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence. Renard stared in quiet disbelief, mouth falling open just slightly, before he composed himself enough to reply. “Not at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whole room seemed to hold his breath as he stepped forward, reaching for Nick’s son. Adalind held his gaze fiercely for a long second, warning clear in her eyes, and he-the great prince, the fierce police captain-bowed his head. Just slightly. Just enough to get his point across. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a beat, Adalind held Kelly out, and Renard took him into his arms, tucking him against his shoulder. Kelly didn’t hesitate, snuggling in with barely a huff, and Renard swallowed hard, something unexpectedly gentle in his eyes. Then, he turned to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Diana. Time to go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana lay perfectly still, hardly breathing, and Nick grinned. “I think someone’s playing possum,” he teased, and her lips twitched. Brows furrowing, she quickly forced the smile from her face, eyes still firmly shut, and the tension drained from the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Renard chuckled. “She does that sometimes. But you can always tell when she’s awake. All you have to do is tickle her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Squealing, Diana scrambled up and off the bed, jostling a few wires as she went. Nick barely hid a wince, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position. His arm was asleep-</span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely-</span>
  </em>
  <span>but he couldn’t bring himself to care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After another round of hugs, this one including Juliette, and a firm handshake from Renard, everyone but Adalind and Trubel were ready to go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana waved hesitantly. “Bye, N-um.” She took a breath, and the next words came out in such a rush, he could barely make them out: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>ByeDad.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then she scurried out into the hallway before he could even begin to process that. (But ohhhh, he didn’t mind it. He could definitely get used to it, if Renard didn’t object.) </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Monroe winced, holding up his phone. “I forgot that this thing was on silent. Apparently Bud saw the news; I have six missed calls and two texts.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>envy him in the slightest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wu cleared his throat. “Hey, Captain, before we head out, I just wanted to let you know: we’re already getting calls from reporters. They want you to do a press conference about this whole thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Renard hesitated, looking around the room, before his shoulders sagged. It looked almost like surrender. “You know something?” He looked around the room. “I really, really hate press conferences.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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